Because Part III was large enough to cause trouble for a number of
e-mail clients being used by my pre-readers, I am breaking this part up
into three seperate sections. They will be designated Part IIIa, Part
IIIb, and Part IIIc. The following is Comes the Cold Dragon, Part IIIa.
I will ship Part IIIb to FFML on Friday of next week and Part IIIc the
subsequent Friday. This should giver everyone plenty of time to digest
the pieces and offer C& C if they are so inclined.
------------------
Most of the characters in this piece and the setting for it, were
conceived of by Rumiko Takahashi for her Ranma1/2 series of Manga. All
such characters and the setting are the property of Takahashi-san and
her licensees. All other characters in the piece are purely fictional
and any resemblences to actual persons living or dead are purely
coincidental.
-------------------
Comes the Cold Dragon: Part IIIa
=======================
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: CCD3a.txt
-- Desc: Unknown Document
The Nekohanten owned four bicycles, one for Mu Suu and three for
Xian Pu. Two of the four had been reduced to nothing more than
sources of spare parts for the bicycle Xian Pu preferred to ride.
This was no surprise given that Xian Pu could easily put a hundred
and sixty grueling kilometers on a bicycle in a day, and that Ko
Lon, did not believe in overdoing capital expenditures. The two
"spare" bikes were picked clean long ago and Mu Suu had been
raiding trash heaps for parts, but on this busy, Wednesday
morning, he simply did not have the time to scrounge. He shook his
head and stumped back into the restaurant.
"Honored Elder?"
"What is it, Mu Suu?"
"We may have a problem with bicycles."
Ko Lon sighed. She knew all too well how hard Xian Pu was
on a bicycle.
"What now, Mu Suu?"
"Well, we have been out of spare parts for quite a while
now and I've been scrounging them up from trash heaps. If Xian Pu
has a breakdown today, I'll have to let her have my bike."
And it won't hold up for more than half a day, Ko Lon
thought. Well, this day's been coming for a while, may as well
cure this problem while the cash flow is good.
"Say no more, Mu Suu. Go get the things on this list before
she comes limping back in here with that old wreck of hers and
takes your bicycle."
Mu Suu adjusted his glasses and read the list.
"You are going to make a bouillabaisse?" he asked
incredulously. "And bread?"
"A bouillabaisse and a brioche to be exact. Watch what
happens today and you will learn something important about saving
money and gaining allies. Now get going!"
"Okay!" Mu Suu said dubiously as he walked out to his
bicycle.
"When did she learn how to cook this stuff?" he asked
himself aloud as he straddled his bike. "Ko Lon is a fountain of
surprises. I'll just bet she speaks French on top of everything
else. I'll probably have to barter for some of this stuff at that
fancy French place. It isn't part of our regular supply list."
Ko Lon returned to her work in the kitchen with only half
her mind on her cooking. She had slept very little despite the
fatigue brought on by the frenetic pace they had held all day the
day before. The brawl at Miyagi's place had jarred her awake
shortly after she lay down. She had merely chuckled at the
caterwauling of Tillie's boyfriend, then got a real belly laugh
out of Happosai's yodeling. No doubt, whoever had gotten the best
of the old fart had been female and practiced an Art Ko Lon had
never studied--well not enough to get that sort of result anyway.
The overpowering surge of ki in the wee hours of the
morning however, had been a completely different thing. Clearly,
the Saotome boy had been having a nightmare and was completely out
of control. She had almost forgotten to breath during the ordeal.
The ancient records had warned of this danger and others. Until a
bearer of the gift learned control, they were a danger to
themselves and those around them at night. One or two of those
gifted this way had taken to living in remote areas to avoid
hurting others inadvertently. This had not been so difficult a
measure for those in the past, but times had changed. This child
lived in a society with very different demands from those of the
past. He needed to finish his schooling and it was time for him to
choose a mate. Ko Lon had no doubt that Ranma would choose whom he
pleased, custom be damned. He was that sort of person. As was
true of many dragons, Ranma Saotome would be self-made. Coming to
Nerima and watching the lad chisel himself out of his parent rock
had been one of the most entertaining experiences of Ko Lon's long
life.
She needed a way to reach out to the boy. Some means of
getting past his mistrust of her and Xian Pu. Ko Lon had already
deduced that the sudden popularity of the Nekohanten's cuisine was
the doing of the middle Tendo daughter. The gambling pool was a
Nabiki trademark, but Ko Lon doubted that Nabiki had taken it upon
herself to initiate such an action on her own. So long as Xian Pu
was busy working, or exhausted from working, she was unlikely to
go around picking fights with anyone. Which meant of course that
both Akane Tendo and Ukyo Kuonji would be safe from harm. Nabiki
might be the hand beating them down to their knees with money, but
it had to be Ranma Saotome that set her in motion.
Ko Lon smiled as she found herself liking Nabiki. The girl
obviously had talent and intelligence. Ranma would never have
thought of using money as a distraction on his own, this sudden
spate of business had to have been Nabiki's idea. She was as good
an adversary as one could hope to have. It would be time for them
to talk soon, but not too soon. Ko Lon never passed up a chance to
make hay while the sun was out.
-----------
Jean-Luc Thibbideaux was not a cyclist, but his name was
known to every serious cyclist the world over. The bicycles he
built were the lightest, most rugged of any made. His mountain
bikes were legend; his racing bikes storied. Only one other
craftsman in all the world could come close to rivaling him in the
design and construction of bicycles, an Italian fellow in Naples,
who charged five times Thibbideaux's highest price. The problem
had been that Thibbideaux had not been making the money he should
have been able to make in his native France. Being a very Frankish
Frenchman, Thibbideaux loathed the idea of going to the United
States or Canada as much or more than he did moving to Germany.
The only other country in Europe where he could find both the
materials and patient, craft labor he needed to construct his
bicycles was Italy. A profoundly finicky, Frenchman such as
himself living in Naples? Come now! Let us not be absurd! Besides,
the tax situation in Italy was really no better than it was in
France. To be sure, the Italians had made an art of cheating on
taxes, but Thibbideaux was too ardent a socialist to participate
in such a practice. So it was that Jean-Luc Thibbedeaux, after
many months of traveling the world and agonizing over the
positives and negatives, settled where no other Frenchman had ever
settled before. He opened a bicycle shop on Forges Street in the
Nerima district of Tokyo, Japan.
Here, he could work his usual four days per week, six
hours per day and still make enough money to build up a decent
savings account. This situation would have been perfect, except
that after six months of living in Japan, he was beginning to
think he might actually commit murder to have a decent brioche.
Worse, sticky rice was not exactly his cup of tea. For that
matter, he did not like tea too terribly much, either. Certainly
he did not care for the bland, nearly tasteless green stuff the
Japanese favored. He reminded himself each and every day to
overlook these nearly fatal flaws in his temporarily adopted home.
The rate at which he was making money now, would allow him to
purchase that little cottage somewhere along the Cote de Azure in
another ten years. Once he had a home paid for, he would never
need to touch another tool unless he just wanted to. The
advantages of Japan had resoundingly outweighed its disadvantages.
The materials he needed were easily available here with few or no
questions asked. In France, the purchase of a two meter length of
titanium tubing guaranteed a visit from the police, even if he had
filled out all the paperwork properly. Here he had very few
problems with the local authorities, tax collectors and otherwise,
not to mention that the craftsman here were better than the best
he had been able to find back home. A Japanese craftsman would
willingly work on something until it was flawless, little or no
supervision required.
Oddly enough, very little of his business came from Japan
itself. The Japanese had a rather cavalier attitude towards
bicycles and would often throw one away simply because it had a
flat tire. The number of serious cyclists in Japan was tiny and
very few of them had budgets that allowed them to purchase his
goods and services. Curiously, over fifty-percent of his business
came from the United States and Canada, the very places he
considered so tainted with commercial interests that he refused to
grace their shores with his presence. Another twenty-percent of
his business came from Great Britain with the remainder going to
any number of odd, out of the way places, including the two
mountain bikes he had recently shipped to some tiny village in the
far off Provence of Qing Hai, China. The one unsurprising thing
about his business was that nearly sixty-percent of his customers
were French expatriates like himself.
Sunrise on the Wednesday morning following Akane Tendo's
failed wedding found him in his shop, putting the finishing
touches on a mountain bike that he was almost certain that he
would not be shipping for another year or more. The customer who
had ordered it, an American, paid him half the bicycle's price in
the form of a cashier's check. Since that time however, he had
been involved in a terrible racing accident in the Cascades of
Washington State. He would, in all probability, be laid up in the
hospital for a year. Jean-Luc Thibbideaux loved bicycles almost as
much as dogs love trucks, loved bicycle sports and loved cyclists,
but he had no illusions about them. This American kid was going to
have the devil's own time ever paying off the other half of what
he owed. Still, a bicycle was a bicycle and they were the medium
of Jean-Luc's art. He took as much care with this machine as he
would have taken with any of his other creations.
-----------
Nabiki loved the cellular telephone, and she hated the
cellular telephone. She loved them because they let her get things
done that would have otherwise been entirely too inconvenient. She
hated them because they tended to bother her when she least needed
or wanted to be bothered, like during breakfast.
Bee-boop! Bee-boop!
"Tendo!"
"Forges Street deliveries were five-minutes early to right
on time. Now headed for the fish market," the voice on the other
end of the call said. He called this early only because he had
been told to, and knew his boss would not consider his terse
delivery of the facts as an offense. To the contrary, she would
very much appreciate it.
"Good."
Click!
Bee-boop! Bee-boop!
"Tendo!"
"Big trouble at Miyagi's last night. Panda in zoo. Pervert
in jail, charged with IE this time. Third party sent to clinic.
All others limped, or flew home. Exact damages unknown. Your
father carried away by pull cart, destination believed to be your
house."
Click!
"Kasumi, have you seen Daddy this morning?"
"No. I think he and Uncle Saotome must have stayed over
somewhere. Neither of them came home last night."
"Meet me at the front door, Sis. I think I know where Daddy
is."
Nabiki got up and walked to the foyer and opened the front
door. Sure enough, her father was snoring away on the front step.
Someone had pinned a note to his gi. Nabiki took the note and read
it.
"Tendo Nabiki-san. Please visit me at your earliest
convenience today. We have a great deal to discuss. Yours, Miyagi
Jiro."
"Chikusho!"
"Nabiki!" Kasumi said, in a tone of reproval.
"They must have gotten into a brawl last night, Kasumi.
Miyagi pinned this note to Daddy's gi."
Kasumi took the note from Nabiki, then read it.
"Oh, my! You had better go by and have look at it on the
way to school."
" I will. Would you call the contractors for me and have
them meet me there?"
"Yes of course. Would you help me get Father into his bed,
please?"
Just as they had gotten the unconscious Soun Tendo half-
way down the hall to his room, Nabiki's red phone rang.
Bee-boop-boop!
"Tendo!"
"'Biki they had big trouble at Tofu's clinic last night!"
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure. Some kind of explosion from the looks of
what they are showing on the television. The entire front wall has
been blown to bits. Wait a second...the fire captain is saying
something about a cryogenics leak."
"Anyone hurt?"
"They said one man is missing, but they aren't giving out
any names."
Nabiki fought down the panic rising in her throat.
"Okay. I'm going to be late getting to school this morning.
Tell Mr. Shimamura what has happened. He'll understand and take
care of the details. Set odds on panty raids at 100 to 1. Be sure
and tell all comers that Happosai is in jail. Take all bets. Got
it?"
"Hai, Oyabun! Big money day, neh?"
"Let's make it a really big, money day. Set odds at 500 to
1 and take all bets."
"All bets! At 500 to 1?"
"All bets. This is a fool and his money deal for today.
Long odds on all the usual Saotome stuff. Long odds on all the
Kuno and Akane stuff. Long odds on general weirdness. Tomorrow
might be different. Standard odds on Kodachi, Shampoo and Ukyo,
got it?"
"Ooh! A dull and profitable day!"
The betting pool tended to receive large numbers of small
bets when the odds were running in this direction. Days like this
often made them more money than the extremely active ones. This of
course, would be on top of Operation Market Garden.
"That's about the size of it."
Click!
The two girls got Soun into bed quickly and efficiently,
having had much practice at it.
"Okay, Kasumi, here's the scoop. Happosai is in jail for
indecent exposure."
"Oh, my!" Kasumi said with a laugh.
"Uncle Saotome is in the zoo again."
"Oh! Ranma will be so pleased!" Kasumi exclaimed with a
smile. "And I can't wait to tell Auntie Nodoka."
"Miyagi's must have taken a pretty heavy beating, but you
know as much as I do about that."
"Yes."
"There has been a problem of some kind at the clinic."
"Oh, dear!"
"I don't know how bad it is yet, but would you have Mr.
Uchigawa meet me at the clinic instead of Miyagi's? Tell him I
will most likely have a cost plus job for him there. Ask the other
contractors to meet me at Miyagi's at nine. I'll call Miyagi
myself."
Uchigawa was by no means the lowest cost contractor in
Nerima, but he was the fastest and had the best connections with
the Nerima Inspection department. Things went quickly when he
worked on them, but you paid.
"What happened, Nabiki?"
"I'm not sure, but from what was reported on the
television this morning, I think Ranma must have knocked out a
wall of the clinic."
"Oh, my!"
"Don't say anything to Aunt Nodoka until after I've had
time to check it out. It may be nothing. You know how these things
get blown out of proportion."
"All right. You had best run along. I will finish with
father. Oh, is the television on the blink again?"
"Yeah, I guess that would be best."
"I will take care of it. Anything else?"
"That's all I can think of...Oh! Drop your cell phone into
your apron pocket. I may need to get a hold of you fast."
"All right. I'll fetch it as soon as I have Father all
tucked in."
"Gotta run, Sis."
"Nabiki?"
"Yeah, Sis?"
"Be careful."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Stay calm."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Be nice to your sister and Ranma."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Call me as soon as you know how everyone is."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Sis. Bye!"
"Bye, bye!"
-----------
In her flat above the only Okinomiyaki shop in Nerima,
Ukyo Kuonji watched the morning news and shook her head in dismay.
"Would you look at that, Konatsu?" Ukyo asked her ninja
assistant, "Whatever on earth makes their parents think those two
can survive being married to one another?"
"It might have been something other than an argument, Ukyo-
sama," Konatsu said.
"Oh, come on. You know how they get along. What else could
have done that much damage to the building? Akane probably knocked
my poor Ran-chan right through the front wall."
"I don't think she would hit him while he's so sick, Ukyo-
sama."
"Hmmph! Her problem is she doesn't know how to appreciate a
real man like Ranchan. That's why she's gonna lose him to me."
Konatsu shook his pretty head in dismay.
-----------
Uchigawa had seen the morning news and left immediately
after Kasumi called. He had brought one of his own inspectors and
an estimator with him. The fire captain had let them through the
barricade and they were already crawling around the rubble, taking
notes when Nabiki arrived.
"Good morning, Tendo-san!" the fire captain said to Nabiki.
"Good morning, Captain-san!" Nabiki said back to him with a
smile. She had known him since childhood. All but three of the
firefighters were gone. All they were needed for now was to direct
traffic around the dangerously cold rubble until it thawed out.
"We will be leaving soon. Uchigawa has a labor crew on the
way to clear the street."
"Thanks. Is this one billable?" As with many fire
departments all over the world, the Nerima Fire Brigade billed
property owners for calls stemming from their own negligence. The
fees charged only covered a fraction of their real cost, but the
idea was to encourage people to be safe.
"'Fraid so."
Nabiki suppressed a groan.
"Just a single alarm though."
"Oh, good," Nabiki said, sounding relieved. "What's the
report going to say?"
"I am calling it a small, cryogenics leak. I will swear
before all the Kami of Japan that it was corrected while I stood
here and watched."
"Thanks. What's a report that favorable going to cost me?"
"Oh, no charge this time. We're talking about Doc Tofu,
here."
Nabiki breathed a sigh of relief.
"May I go have a look? I need to speak with Uchigawa-san."
"Sure. Just be careful not to touch anything with you bare
skin. You might stick to it."
"It's still that cold?"
The fire captain looked grim and nodded. "Be very
careful."
As it happened, Uchigawa saw Nabiki and came to her,
saving her the trouble.
"Good morning, Tendo-san."
"Good morning, Uchigawa-san."
"It looks like about two-hundred thousand, right off the
top of my head. That's at cost plus five."
"Cost plus five?" Nabiki could not conceal her surprise.
Uchigawa ordinarily charged cost plus fifteen, and rarely as low
as cost plus ten.
"Well, it's for Doctor Tofu you see."
"When can you finish?"
"Oh, mid-day Friday I think, provided we don't have a lot
of rain and the local inspectors show up on time. I'm pretty sure
they will."
"I don't suppose you are going to give me any breaks on
Miyagi's?"
"Are you kiddin'? I like Miyagi, but he's a pain in the ass
to work for."
"What if I keep him out of your hair?"
"Keep him out of my hair and I'll do the job at cost plus
ten. Believe it or not, that will cost you less than having the
job done on a fixed price contract."
"I'll let you know." Nabiki had no doubts that Uchigawa was
right. Miyagi always tried to squeeze more than he should out of
contractors, not realizing that Nabiki had already squeezed them
down as far as they could go. It led to friction, delays and
claims for extra work. "Meet me there at ten or so?"
"Sure."
"Have you seen Doctor Tofu?"
"Oh, he's in the clinic. The cops brought his missing
patient back," Uchigawa said with a shudder, "The poor, ugly
schmuck tried to get on a local train wearing nothing but a
hospital gown and didn't have any money for fare."
Nabiki rolled her eyes.
"Wait'll you see the guy. Wanna bet me this one makes the
evening news?"
"Not until and unless I've seen the guy."
"Believe me, you don't want to look at him."
"Oh?"
"Word I get is that your old man used him for a naginata
last night."
Nabiki actually groaned out loud, which made Uchigawa
laugh.
"See you later, Uchigawa-san."
"You bet! Say, how about lunch?"
"I'll let you know. I suspect I won't have the time."
"Aw fooey!" Uchigawa said, mocking sharp disappointment.
Nabiki gave him her best, "I'm flattered you think I'm
sexy smile," then let the matter drop by walking off towards the
clinic's back door. The truth of the matter was there was only one
face she really wanted to see and she would not be able to carry
on for the rest of the day until she saw for herself that he was
unhurt. Holding her pace to a walk took nearly all the self-
control she could muster. She breathed a sigh of relief to find
Ranma and Akane in the same examination room as before, studying
as though nothing all that exciting had happened.
"Good morning, Nabiki-aneechan."
"Yo, Nabiki!"
"Hi, guys. So what happened last night?"
"It's sort of my fault," Akane said.
"I had a nightmare," Ranma said.
"I talked him into eating pizza for supper last night,"
Akane said.
"Lots and lots of pizza," Ranma said.
"With everything but anchovies," Akane said.
"Including jalapenos and this ground, red-pepper junk,"
Ranma said.
"So? What happened? You belched in the lobby and blew the
wall down?"
"Well no, not exactly," Ranma said.
"He lost control of his ki, Nabiki," Akane said.
"Lost control of his ki?"
"Yeah, I got to sleep walkin' and while I was in the lobby
I, uh, I sorta froze everything."
"Froze everything?"
"Yeah, it got pretty cold."
"And then you kicked the wall down?"
"No! I didn't kick nothin'! All I did was yell real loud."
Ranma looked so shame-faced that it was all Nabiki could
do not to hug him in front of Akane, but she managed to hide her
feelings by laughing instead.
"Maybe we should find you another place to recuperate,
Ranma."
"I really am sorry about this, Nabiki. I'll find a way to
pay you back, I promise."
"Okay, Saotome," Nabiki said with a coolness she by no
means felt, "I'll put it on your tab. You're lucky, you know. The
contractor thinks well of Doctor Tofu. He's only going to charge
us two-hundred-thousand yen for this little job."
Ranma and Akane both stared in horror. Nabiki had to
suppress a laugh. She would never really demand that Ranma pay for
the damages. She was going to make Happosai pay for it all. Not
only was he primarily responsible, he could afford it. Under
ordinary circumstances the old man was too elusive for her to gain
any leverage over, but today, well, today he was in very bad need
of one Nabiki Tendo. Only Nabiki could help him right now. Nabiki
had little doubt but what he would pay for nearly anything she
asked him to pay for, and pay willingly. Still, it did not hurt
to let Ranma know what his lack of control cost. Nabiki had great
faith in the carrot and stick system, especially when it came to
dealing with Martial Artists.
"Where's Doctor Tofu?"
"Down the hall with another patient," Akane said, "but
don't go in there. Wait for him to come back out."
"Yeah! Believe me, you don't wanna see the other patient!"
Ranma added. Both he and Akane visibly shuddered. Akane looked as
though she might become physically ill.
"Daddy must have done one heck of a job on the poor jerk,"
Nabiki said.
"Daddy?" Akane asked, clearly alarmed.
Ranma's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs with shock.
"Yeah, he picked a fight with Daddy over at Miyagi's last
night," Nabiki said. In truth, she had did not know that this was
the case yet, but the best defense was almost always an aggressive
offense, especially when the bay of legal beagles could be heard
off in the distance. With a little luck and the right kind of
pressure, the guy might even cough up a contribution towards the
damages at Miyagi's. The funny thing about brawls at Miyagi's was
how many men would come by the payday after a brawl and give her
money. It was a good thing, too. The Tendo's very often needed it.
"Wow!" Ranma said.
"Daddy, did...that?" Akane said, staring off into the
distance.
"'Fraid so," Nabiki said cheerfully, "You guys got anything
ready to turn in at school?"
Much to Nabiki's schock and surprise, both of them did.
Ranma handed her a surprisingly large quantity of paper.
"I'll have a lot more ready by this afternoon," Ranma said.
"So will I," Akane added.
"Okay, I'll send someone over to pick it up around two,
will that be okay?"
They nodded their assent.
"Good morning, Nabiki. How are you today?" Tofu asked from
right behind Nabiki, giving her something of a start. Nabiki
wondered if Tofu weren't really a ninja.
"Oh, I'm fine. I guess you could be having a better day
though, huh?"
"I suppose, but I chose to practice here Nerima because
it's never dull."
They stepped out into the hallway together and strolled
towards the cubbyhole Tofu used for an office.
"I have a contractor here already. They should have
everything cleaned up by ten this morning and he says he can have
everything good as new by noon Friday if it doesn't rain."
"Nabiki! I haven't even called my insurance company yet!"
"Don't call 'em. We'll take care of it."
"Are you sure? This is going to be expensive."
"We're the Tendo Clan, Doctor Tofu," Nabiki said with a
slight catch in her throat, as she gave a glance back towards the
room Ranma and Akane were in, "We take care of our own."
"Oh?" Tofu asked, sounding a wee bit dubious.
"I am _not_ the monster I'm made out to be, Sensei."
"I figured as much. Anything else you'd like to talk
about?"
"No, not--not now. I've got to get out of here and get to
school. I just wanted to stop by and make sure things were, ah,
moving along."
"All right, but remember, I'm here if you need me."
"Thank you, Sensei," Nabiki said, "Gotta run!"
"Thanks, Nabiki!" Tofu called after her.
Nabiki turned but kept walking towards the back door,
"They'll probably want to replace all the tile in the lobby, and
may even want to replace all of the paneling. It will save a lot
of time searching for matching material."
"That's fine," Tofu said as he held the door for Nabiki.
"Uchigawa-san will bring samples by later."
"Okay."
Tofu shook his head in wonder as Nabiki turned and walked
on down the street. He watched as she produced a cellular
telephone and began dialing numbers. Tofu sighed.
"Sooner or later I'll be treating her for stress symptoms.
Pity she's starting out so young," Tofu said aloud to himself,
"Poor kid has never had a childhood."
-----------
Far, far to the north and west of Nerima, Prince Haabu
(Herb), Heir to the Throne of the Musk Dynasty sat in his treasure
room staring at an ancient statue of a dragon. It had been made of
drawn strands of copper that were then woven into a frame that was
soldered together with silver. Lapis lazuli of the deepest blue
had been cunningly carved and polished to form the dragon's
scales. Individual pieces of quartz crystal, polished until they
were perfectly transparent had been used to make its teeth and
spines. The statuette's eyes had been fashioned from amber. The
entire thing had been set upon a great block of oak which in turn
sat upon a flat, thin base of onyx. Carved into the oaken base in
a script so old that Haabu could not decipher it, were the words
"Danger! Do Not Touch." It was large for piece of statuary
intended to be kept indoors, almost a half-meter in height. Last
night it did something Prince Haabu had been told it could and
might do someday, but he never expected it to do--it sang. Well,
assuming of course you understood that the word "sing" was here
being used in the same manner as "singing sword." It had been more
of humming ring.
While it sang, two of the five toes on each of its feet
fell off. Dawn on this Wednesday morning found Prince Haabu still
sitting before the now silent dragon, staring at it as he clinched
in his left fist, the eight toes it had shed. Somewhere in the
Japan, a new dragon had been born. Haabu was fairly sure he knew
who the new dragon was. What he needed to decide now was what, if
anything, he should do about this surprising development. The old
writings indicated that a great many things should be done, but
Haabu mistrusted much of what they said. Times had changed in ways
that those long-dead authors had no way of anticipating. He did
not think that blindly following the edicts of tradition would
lead to the wisest of actions. As much as he hated to admit it, he
needed sound advice and there was only one place where such advice
would be available to him.
"Raima! Minto!" (Lime and Mint)
"Yes, My Lord Haabu?" They chorused.
"You will remain here and guard this place with your lives
until I return."
"My, Lord!" Raima protested, "Surely you do not mean to
travel without us?"
"I must, friend Raima. This place must be carefully guarded
at all times, yet I find that I must go see some one."
"How long will you be gone, My Lord Haabu?" Raima asked. He
looked thoroughly upset.
"Only for two or three days, perhaps five at the very most,
but no matter how long I am gone, you two must stay here and keep
this place safe. Am I understood?"
His servants did not like their orders, but understood
them. Haabu was convinced that they would indeed do their best to
carry out those orders, but he also knew that leaving the two to
their own devices for too long invited a great deal of trouble. He
dared not tarry any longer than he must.
-----------
High atop a nearby mountain, known in both Qing Hai and
Nerima as Houzan (Phoenix Mountain), a very similar occurrence had
taken place at the same time. The dragon statuette in possession
of the Houzanjin (People of Phoenix Mountain) was exactly the same
in its essential features as the one belonging to the Musk
Dynasty. The Houzanjin however, were at this time being governed
by a committee of elders because their sovereign, referred to by
the Houzanjin as Lord Safuron (Saffron), was still in the early
stages of regeneration and therefore incapable of exerting
leadership. A committee is a truly peculiar life-form in that it
possesses six or more stomachs and no brain. The news concerning
the dragon in the Land of Wa upset the committee terribly,
rendering it even more brainless than usual. After they played hot
potato with the issue for twice as long as honor and decorum
demanded, they pitched the wretched subject back into the lap of
Lord Safuron's eldest advisor. No single member wanted to address
the subject, let alone mention the prophecy that predicted such an
event. His instructions were to conduct a study, then report back
to the committee.
The old advisor saw no need for conducting a study of the
matter, inasmuch as he had read everything in the Houzanjin's
extensive library, including all ten-thousand of its two-thousand,
six-hundred year old, clay tablets. He planned to do exactly what
he had already recommended the committee do. He planned to confer
with the Most Revered Grandmother of the Joketsuzoku. After all,
they already knew everything the Houzanjin could possibly hope to
know about such a situation, and if this information was
insufficient for the decision making process within the committee,
then another, well respected source of information was required.
The problem was that the Houzanjin and Joketsuzoku had not been on
friendly terms for almost a millennium now, and even though the
majority of those sitting on the committee saw the wisdom of the
old counsellor's advice, none of them dared to openly agree with
him in anything remotely like a public forum. Even though the
ruling committee of the Houzanjin was a closed autocracy, and
therefore not open to review by the general public, it did have
some twenty stomachs and no brain, which meant that as secretive
as the committee tried to be, it leaked like a sieve. The ancient
scholar was therefore given the authorization to "conduct a
study," with no specific instructions on how to conduct such a
study, nor was he burdened with restrictions upon the means or
manner in which said study was to be conducted. He took this as
license to confer with someone in possession of information or
sources of information which he did not already have at his
disposal.
Thus armed, the ancient counsellor paid visit to on
Captain Kiima, late of the Houzanjin imperial guard. She, unlike
most of her superiors, was capable of making a decision under
pressure. She did not always make good decisions, in which case
she made more than one decision in quick succession, but she could
and did make decisions quickly. Believe it or not, this is a key
trait of a good, field officer. A quick decision, irrespective of
its quality, is very often the single difference between a
glorious victory and crushing defeat. Indecisiveness will almost
always result in a crushing defeat, so even a bad decision is
better than no decision, but try telling that to a creature with
twenty stomachs and less brain power than an inebriated slug.
Captain Kiima quickly decided to fill the ancient scholar's
request for four powerful, but discrete guardsman to bear him in
his palanguin to unspecified places for a duration of one week to
two months. By noon Wednesday, he was on his way to a remote
little shack situated high up in the end of a box canyon on the
outskirts of Joketsu territory. The shack was just a facade. It
covered the mouth of a vast cavern wherein the Joketsu safeguarded
their library and other treasures, such as their Most Revered
Grandmother, with whom the ancient scholar was so desperate to
consult. He could expect a gracious welcome despite the less than
friendly relationship currently extant between the Houzanjin and
Joketsuzoku, because scholars flocked together despite their
differences in stripe or feather. He already knew what the Most
Revered Grandmother knew about dragons anyway. What he needed to
know from her, was what sort of consensus was growing among the
Joketsu, or what sort of consensus she was trying to foster in the
leadership of her people. They were faced with a situation in
which the two tribes desperately needed to put aside ancient feuds
so that they could cooperate to mutual benefit. United they may or
may not manage to stand, but by remaining divided they were
certain to fall and would fall quite hard.
-----------
"Welcome, Lord Haabu! May I get you some tea?" the Joketsu
girl asked as soon as she saw who was standing at the door. She
showed no surprise.
"Just water thank you. It has been a long walk," Haabu
said. It had indeed been a long walk. He had skirted around the
bulk of Joketsu territory to reach this place.
"Of course, Lord Haabu. Please be seated. Most Revered
Grandmother will see you very soon."
"Thank you," Haabu said as he sat down. He wondered if the
old woman would insist upon speaking with him here, in the tiny
little house that hid the entrance to the Joketsu Treasury. He had
been but a small child the last time he had visited the place. The
girl brought him a glass of water. The water was clear, cool and
sweet, as only the water from a mountain stream can taste. He
emptied it greedily and the girl refilled it from a pitcher. He
drank half the second glass without stopping and she refilled it
yet again.
"That is enough," Haabu told the girl.
She bowed and left, leaving him with his thoughts. They
were not pleasant thoughts. Of his own people, only he and two
others remained alive. For almost two-thousand years his people
had been a terrible force to be reckoned with. They were still
formidable but with only three of their number left, it mattered
little. The world had changed. They would now change with it or
become extinct. The change he was contemplating however, would no
doubt cause his honorable ancestors to sputter with fury. Let them
sputter, he thought, I do what I must.
"Lord Haabu?"
"Yes?"
"Most Revered Grandmother is now available, and requests
the honor of your august presence."
"Very well," Haabu said as he rose to his feet.
"Follow me, please."
The girl led him to the back of tiny house and they
proceeded out the back door and into a small, beautifully kept
garden. Two incredibly powerful looking Joketsu women in their
thirties puttered about the place, looking for weeds to pull. Few
gardens looked as neat and as beautifully kept as this one, but
very few gardens had a couple of bored, Joketsu guards walking
about in them all day every day. Not a single leaf was out of
place. The rocks in the tiny stream had been arranged and
rearranged until the notes it made were perfect. The place
practically oozed patience and calm. Haabu knew that it was a
deadly sort of calm. The women who worked this garden were
formidable ki adepts and would have no qualms about sacrificing
tranquility to see their duties carried out.
The girl led him to an outcrop of stone from the canyon
wall and motioned for him to stand next to her. As he did so, she
rang a tiny bell. Part of the cliff face of swung out just far
enough for a person to enter. He followed the girl inside. The
entry way opened into a small chamber, deliberately made small so
as to serve as a choke point. He was greeted by a half-dozen,
heavily armed Joketsu. None of them were very friendly looking and
all of them gave him hard stares. He knew that they were reading
his ki for hostile intent. Haabu reminded himself not to bristle
at their effrontery. It was a necessary part of their job. What
they guarded here was not only irreplaceable, but might well prove
deadly for the whole of humanity should it get into the wrong
hands.
After several moments of inspection one of the guards rang
a tiny bell and the portcullis at the end of the entry way began
to rise with clanking and clatter of chains. Obviously, the
Joketsu had not elected to install electrically driven winches.
This made sense to him. What might well have struck the
uninitiated as a waste of labor was actually a good security
measure. The portcullis could only be raised by someone inside who
used their muscles. This way there would be no electronic
circuitry to short, nor automated mechanisms to exploit. The only
way in was by approval or by treachery.
The vast cavern beyond the portcullis was well lit, much
better lit than it had been when he last visited the place. A
quick glance upwards told him that the Joketsu had added quite a
few fluorescent lights to the incandescent lighting that had been
in place before. Haabu wondered how long it had taken the Joketsu
men to work this subterranean wonder. Even though the entire thing
had been carved from native rock, the walls, ceiling, and floor
had been carefully dressed smooth. The floor had been paved with
fine marble and polished until it shone like a mirror. The walls
were painted with glorious frescoes of men and women casting nets
from graceful, lateen rigged ships floating upon beautiful blue
seas, or performing kata on sacred ground, or fighting bulls, or
simply dancing in gardens graced with exotic looking flowers. The
great pillars which supported the roof were wider at the top than
they were at the bottom. Each one had been carefully dressed, then
painted a lovely crimson color which was different from the reds
typically used in the rest of China. The place was not a single,
great chamber. Great hallways led off in different directions with
side passages and many rooms both large and small. Numerous stair
ways led up and down to even more great hallways and rooms. It
was the reflection of an ancient past both glorious and tragic.
Haabu found himself wishing he could have visited this place more
often.
The treasury was crowded with women cleaning or repairing
things, then putting them back in their places of storage. Several
women were busily working at transcribing ancient texts written on
tablets of clay, or stone or bronze, onto scrolls made of fine
paper. Here there was treasure enough to sate even the greediest
of hearts, and knowledge enough to employ an army of archeologists
and scholars for a century or more. Sadly, much of it was
knowledge which must be kept hidden for many years to come.
He followed his escort as they wound around and up and
down through the great labyrinth until Haabu was thoroughly lost
and they arrived at the audience chamber of the Most Revered
Grandmother. This room was surprisingly intimate and informally
arranged. It was equipped with couches and a low table rather than
chairs. The table was made from an onyx not to be found anywhere
on earth since the destruction of their homeland. The couches had
been carved from the native rock and covered with cushions of
local manufacture, but the floor was covered by a rug, carefully
woven from dyed wool and of a middle-eastern design unknown to the
rest of the world. The lighting was soft, almost natural, but this
was because it was lit by lamps of design so ancient and so secret
that only a handful of people knew of their existence. Haabu
remembered the room quite well, having been here several times
before as a child. None of it was surprising to him, except that
there was a man in the room with the Most Revered Grandmother. A
man almost as ancient as she and a Houzanjin. Haabu had never met
the man, but quickly deduced his identity. He had to be Count
Chervil, First Councellor to Lord Safuron.
"Welcome, Haabu!" Most Revered Grandmother said, "It is
good to see you again."
Haabu smiled inwardly to himself. Coming from anyone else,
especially a woman, such a greeting would have been insolent, but
the Most Revered Grandmother had never been a respecter of titles
or position and at her age, everyone was either a child or a
potential student. She respected a person strictly for their
individual merits and nothing else.
"Greetings, Revered Grandmother. I am pleased to see you
again."
"Meet Count Chervil of the Houzanjin."
"I am honored to meet you, Treasured Scholar," Haabu said
to the ancient old man.
"It brings me great pleasure to meet with you, Prince
Haabu."
"Tell me, Haabu of the Musk," Revered Grandmother said in
a loud voice, "Have you eaten today?"
This gave Haabu considerable pause. She had interrupted
the flow of his and Chervil's greetings. Deliberately no doubt.
The old woman had patience for strict formalities only when it
suited her. Again Haabu smiled inwardly, remembering how his
father had behaved as he had gotten older. He would often use the
excuse of a visitor to eat something the doctor said he should
avoid. No doubt, Revered Grandmother was not above using the same
ploy. The truth was he was hungry, but he wondered if he should
give her an excuse to violate her doctor's orders. No doubt, Count
Chervil was himself on an "old person's" diet. Were it not for
Haabu's presence, Revered Grandmother's custodians would have
served them per doctor's orders. The old woman was looking much
more frail than she did when he had last seen her. She probably
would not live much longer no matter what sort of diet she ate .
"I have not eaten since noon yesterday, Revered
Grandmother."
"Hah!" the old woman hooted with joy, confirming Haabu's
suspicions. "Then we'll have a meal brought to us while we chat."
"Tea, Haabu?"
"Yes, please."
"Count Chervil?"
"Thank you, yes."
One of Revered Grandmother's trusted attendants appeared
as if by magic and began serving tea.
"So my young Prince, what brings you so far from home?"
Revered Grandmother asked as a sly smile played upon her lips.
"A new dragon springs up in the Land of Wa," Haabu answered
coolly. Dragons begat dragons, but some dragons were self-made,
this was all part of ancient lore. Sometimes an ordinary being of
extraordinary spirit made itself into a dragon. Sometimes it was a
carp swimming up a swift running rapid during the spring flood,
other times it was a man contending with terrible odds. This time
the new dragon was a man. A man with whom Prince Haabu was
familiar.
"Do you know who or what this dragon springs from?" Revered
Grandmother asked.
"Yes. It is a man."
"A man?" Count Chervil asked.
"Yes. As it happens, I know this man. His name is Ranma
Saotome."
"You know the Saotome child?" Revered Grandmother asked,
feigning mild surprised.
"I have fought with him, Revered Grandmother. He is a man
to be respected."
"I see," both the older people said together. Both
understood at once that Haabu was admitting that he had been
defeated by Ranma Saotome, just as Haabu intended them to
understand.
"I suppose you know that he has fought with Lord Safuron,"
Count Chervil said.
"Yes," Haabu said, again smiling inwardly. Leave it to
Ranma to run afoul of that one, he thought. "The fact has been
brought to my attention."
In truth, the matter would have been difficult to ignore,
given that Jusendo Mountain was now little more than a hill, just
as Horaisan (Treasure Mountain) had been reduced to a pile of
rubble in Japan.
"So, you have come to tell us about this new dragon, Prince
Haabu?"
"I thought it a good excuse for more than one thing,
Revered Grandmother. Much has changed here in the Middle Kingdom.
The tried and true is no longer quite so effective as it was in
the past."
Both of the older people looked at him with respect they
had not shown him before. At that very moment, their meal arrived.
This gave Haabu time to carefully consider what he would say next.
The matter at hand was quite delicate, but he suspected that
Chervil's presence here at this particular time meant that he was
not alone in his assessments of their plight, the plight of the
entire region around Jusenkyo. He was not at all sure that either
of these old people would approve of his plan. Whether they did or
not, either or both were likely to tell him something he needed to
know. In any case, what he had in mind would not have been
possible had Safuron been in a position to oppose it. As matters
now stood, the plan was still very unlikely to ever be completely
implemented, but without Safuron's opposition at least a great
part of it was possible.
"When the dragon speaks, yin and yang will mingle," Revered
Grandmother said with a chuckle. The quote was quite ancient but
it had special meaning insofar as both Haabu and Saotome were
concerned. "So what is it you intend to try, Prince Haabu?"
"The roast chicken looks delicious," Haabu said, knowing
his declaration would amuse the elderly woman. She did indeed
cackle. He said nothing more until he and they had removed the
edge from their hunger.
"My political situation is rather simple, compared to that
of many in our region," Haabu said. He paused to sip his tea and
see if this got a reaction. He was rewarded with a pair of rueful
smiles.
"This affords me a great deal of flexibility in many
respects. In large part, I am constrained only by the disapproval
of my honorable ancestors and certain possessions which must
either be carefully safeguarded, or utterly destroyed."
Revered Grandmother and Count Chervil exchanged
significant glances.
"These possessions do not belong to me alone and I am
therefore loathe to see them destroyed."
"Are you going to request guards of the Joketsu as you did
the last time you traveled?" Revered Grandmother asked.
"No. I am afraid that would be too much of an imposition,
if not unwise. I am seeking a safe place to store them until such
time as I can retrieve them."
Haabu said nothing more and watched as the elderly
people's eyes widened with shock, then smiled to himself as they
began to turn blue. Neither of them seemed able to breath.
"I could make inquiries about such a place, if you like
Prince Haabu," Revered Grandmother said with something of a gasp.
She was by that time in great need of air.
"That would be most kind of you, Revered Grandmother,"
Haabu said, granting her a genuine smile, "There is one other
thing I would ask of you if it is not too much an inconvenience."
"Of...of course, Prince Haabu! Ask what you will."
"There are certain scrolls and tablets in my archives which
are either difficult to read, or in need of translation to a more
modern script. Would you know of someone who might be capable of
such a task?"
"I would consider it an honor to look into the matter for
you, Prince Haabu," the old woman said. She managed to maintain a
calm demeanor, but Haabu could see that she really wanted to leap
up off her couch and click her heels together. Count Chervil
looked as though he might faint from the effort required to remain
silent.
Haabu smiled at the ancient woman and said, "I am most
grateful, Revered Grandmother."
"The pleasure is all mine. I assure you, Prince Haabu."
Haabu turned his attention to their repast and said
nothing more, knowing that the Revered Grandmother needed time to
think. She did not take long.
"Tell me, Prince Haabu, will you be traveling in the Land
of Wa sometime soon?"
"I may."
"Perhaps then you would do me the honor of traveling with
my envoy. I am sending him with a suitable escort to Nerima, in
the Land of Wa."
"Will you be sending this dispatch soon?"
"As soon as certain important arrangements can be made,
yes."
"I would be delighted to safeguard your envoy, Revered
Grandmother. It is the least I could do under the circumstances."
Count Chervil had the air of a man whose tail feathers had
been set on fire, but refused to spoil his urbanity by giving it
any notice. This amused Haabu. He understood quite well the import
of the tentative agreement he and the Revered Grandmother had just
reached. Some among the Houzanjin would become quite upset. Others
would be delighted. Thank the kami and Saotome that Safuron had be
reduced to a mere child. Otherwise a war would break out before he
managed to return home. As things now stood, Haabu could afford to
wait a day or two and see what developed. War among the three
great tribes was the least likely of the possible outcomes he had
weighed. If everything went perfectly, however unlikely that might
be, then the three tribes might well find themselves covered in
something like their original glory. All he could do at the moment
though was to exercise his patience. The matter was now in Revered
Grandmother's capable hands.
"Tell me, Prince Haabu," the old woman said between sips of
tea, "What do you think of the old prophecy?"
"My father taught me that prophecy was merely a political
tool. It should only be used after careful consideration," Haabu
paused to take a deep breath, "and then used only with the
greatest of caution."
This answer amused both of Haabu's older companions. He
was not surprised. His father was as superstitious as anyone you
would hope to meet and put great stock in the old prophecies.
Haabu had lost his enthusiasm for them early on. His father's
teachings in this respect consisted of bad examples. Some of those
examples had been very costly for the Musk. Haabu had yet to
forget the smell of cordite mixed with smell of torn up dirt that
had been soaked with blood and urine. Even worse was the memory of
PLA troops laughing at the twitching and dying bodies of fallen
Musk. His people had learned a hard lesson about machine gun
nests, interlocking fields of fire and prophecy that day.
"You must be tired, my Lord Haabu," the old woman said,
"Would you like a bath and a place to sleep the night?"
"That is most gracious of you, Revered Grandmother."
The old woman waved at one of her assistants and the girl
led Prince Haabu away.
"Well, Paama, he shows great intelligence to be such a
stuffy, young man."
"Yes, he is very intelligent," Revered Grandmother said
with a smile, "And a little too pompous."
"Do you think he is serious about enlisting the Musk back
into the service of the Joketsuzoku?"
"Only if certain conditions are met, Chervil," Revered
Grandmother said. "I am fairly sure that he has the same thing in
mind as we do. Remember, the reason the Musk went their own way
before is because we refused to listen to them concerning matters
of defense. No one who knows any history has ever questioned the
loyalty of the Musk, only their perspective and wisdom."
"I still question their perspective on certain issues, but
I never doubted their judgement in matters of defense. We relied
too much upon our isolation. The Joketsu relied too much upon
politics and diplomacy. Now we are in a trap."
"The Musk have not done that much better, Chervil. Of
course, they may not have attempted to defy Beijing had we
listened so many years ago. They are not necessarily loyal to us.
They always considered themselves the Guardians of the Knowledge
first and defenders of the people second. They were intended to be
the last line of defense, remember?"
"So you think Prince Haabu has more than one purpose for
visiting the Land of Wa."
"Yes. I have it on good authority that the Saotome child
saved his life. He owes the child a life debt. Visiting him at
this time would make sense, especially if Haabu can offer the
child some help, but that will not be the sole purpose of his
visit."
"You believe he goes to choose a place to store the
archives."
"I am certain that he will and I agree with him. As
powerful as our warriors are, even if combined with those of the
Houzanjin, we would never be able to hold out against the PLA.
Their numbers and their machines would eventually conquer us. Not
even Lord Safuron would be able to defeat them in a pitched
battle, and because we are constrained to defend these archives, a
pitched battle would be inevitable. The archives must be moved."
"You know Paama, the People's Lumber Company is already
cutting the forests on the lower slopes of Mount Phoenix. This
action has alarmed many, but I have cautioned our people against
resistance. So far, they have agreed. Fortunately, they tend
towards timidity without Lord Safuron to support them."
"You have seen what is happening here. Already a tenth of
our people have had their farms wrecked by mud slides or flooded
by silted streams. Beijing seems to think a hundred yuan a month
replaces a farm. It cannot go on. Will your council object to your
moving Houzanjin archives?"
"Oh, there will be some protest to be sure, but nothing I
cannot handle. Moving the treasures and weapons will be another
matter altogether. I have contingency plans for destroying the
more potent items."
"The costs for relocating these archives to the Land of Wa
is going to be significant," Revered Grandmother said.
"I realize that, but you needn't worry. The mineral wealth
found in Mount Phoenix is considerable. A lack of money will be
the least of our worries. Inexplicable money will be the problem."
"Agreed. Now then Chervil, what of relocating your people?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
"I am advocating it. Many think it is a good idea. A few
old hotheads want to stay here and fight, but I think wisdom will
prevail in the end. This place is not safe and never will be
again. Should war break out between Beijing and the Western
Barbarians this entire region will be reduced to a bubbling sea of
glass."
"Would they do that?" Count Chervil asked, sounding
horrified.
"The people I sent west to find out assure me that they
would. The peoples of China are almost too numerous for them to
fight in a conventional war. They will take no chances with the
toys Beijing has buried just to the east of us. My preference
would be to relocate the Joketsuzoku to the Barbarian Gold
Mountain, but they are watchful of their borders and their
government is intrusive when it comes to taxation. Relocating all
the Joketsuzoku and our archives to that place unnoticed would be
extremely difficult. The Land of Wa is much closer and the Wa, for
the first time in centuries, are being a little more accommodating
towards foreigners."
"The Houzanjin are very reluctant to settle elsewhere, as
you can well imagine. All but a tiny fraction of our numbers would
need to bathe at Jusenkyo first. No one willingly gives up the
ability to fly, Paama. I must confess, I am deeply concerned for
my people. I do not know what will become of them."
"You must keep trying, Chervil. They cannot hold Mount
Phoenix by force, not even with Safuron's help could such a thing
be done. Once Beijing hears how unique your people are, they will
live out their days in a laboratory. Those fools in Beijing will
not consider your people to be human."
"I will do all that I can, Paama. What of this young
dragon? Is he descended from those of the Second Fleet?"
"I am not sure. Our people in the Land of Wa think so, and
we have found names in the archives that are quite similar to his
and also that of the local girl to whom he is betrothed."
"He is betrothed to a local girl as well as one of your
own? It sounds as though that situation has become rather
complex."
"Yes, it has been, um, complicated, but the child's gift
provides us with an opportunity to resolve the matter."
"Be honest with me, Paama. You intend to dispatch your
token with Haabu, do you not?"
"Assuming I can work out a plan of action with the Council
of Elders, yes."
"Then I will return to Phoenix Mountain on the morrow. We
both have a great deal to accomplish."
"Have you chosen your successor, Chervil?"
"I have had four or five candidates in mind for several
decades now, but none of them really wants the responsibility.
That is why I think there would be little trouble over moving our
portion of the archives here. What about you?"
"I have chosen mine. She is a very capable and honest
individual, but also very wise in the ways of people."
"Have you told her?"
"No. She almost certainly thinks she is destined to become
Senior of the Council. The arrival of my token will change all of
that."
"Oh, I see! You expect the full support of both her friends
and her rivals."
Revered Grandmother made no answer, other than to smile.
"Then I gather you will be visiting the Land of Wa soon."
"Yes, such a visit will be necessary."
"I should very much like to see you again before you
leave."
"I will let you know well in advance, Chervil. I am sure we
will have much to discuss prior to my departure."
Chervil had not said what was on his mind, but it was
easily read. He was blinking back tears.
"I should be very grateful for that, Paama. We have not
seen enough of one another over all these years." Chervil paused
to regain his control.
"It is late. Perhaps I should give these old bones of mine
a rest, Paama."
"I understand, Chervil. The days are too long and the
nights too short for me as well, nowadays. Good night, my old
friend."
"Sleep well, Paama."
An attendant came and escorted Count Chervil to his
quarters, leaving the Revered Grandmother of the Joketsuzoku to
her own thoughts and fatigue. So much to do. So very much to do
and so very little time. Revered Grandmother sighed. All things
must end, no matter their names and my end is near she thought,
let us hope I can do all that I must before it comes.
-----------